by Jason Gatza

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released December 3, 2015

Written, Performed, Recorded, Mixed and Mastered
by Jason Gatza in Ventura, CA.
Cover artwork by Isabella Hall.
All songs copyright Jason Gatza, BMI.



all rights reserved


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Jason Gatza Lancaster, California

Jason Gatza is a singer/songwriter based in Lancaster, California.

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Track Name: Morning Blue
Will we stay
When the light goes out?
Blue falters.
Will we pray
For loan or to give?
Red falls.

Attach the grace, pray for its name.

Will of names
That belong to most.
He stumbles.

Of all the ways to make for the gates,
The choice of easy ways
Holds dear to lacked strength.

Will we wake
With the morning blue?
Gold chances.
Will we lay
Down too late for hope?
White dreams.

Detach the grace, you know I don't pray.

Will of mist,
Of the clouds and fog.

Of times to say what needs be said,
The choice isn't clear.
Hold dear for I don't hear.

Through the blue of day
Comes the way to say
That what we may know,
we may not.

And the signs that come
guides will push away.
The lines been drawn
the artist erased.
As a prayer escapes
a mother's lips, intent.
A child breaks
the walls built up.
Track Name: Along the World
Though I've come far from home,
The sky still echoes you.
The damage from natural views come true.

Counting white shapes and lines.
A wall falls away.
The heights and a sacred life, in two.

Along the world, over stones our tires burn.
Push it out. Is that what I said to you?
I can't recall what certainty is here.

Memories lift to forget.
Marking our days in red.
The damage of being loved come through and true.

The scent of creosote,
it lets me know how we could glow.
And like the sunset here,
We crawl the earth in damaged years.
And then on the wind
Your voice traverses and leads me in.
Asks "Why do branches break?"

Won’t you let me have this
fleeting want of blurred lines of being.
This fire building in my lungs,
Stoke its flames now.
Until eyes have become
windowed light.

Along the world, overturned our mired hopes.
Push it out. Is that what I said?
Can't recall what certainty is.
Track Name: The Street
Blank faces raise their glass.
And all eyes follow sure.
Unknown language will pass
With prescriptions and cures.

The table's round the story.
Its shape somehow matching
The ache of the air.
And again all eyes wander.

Tell us, show us timeless beauty.
Mention how this all can still be part of me.

The story then turns its moments
Within sight of home.
That's when hearts ring back
To a lengthy past tries and lives and tries.

Tell us, show us timeless beauty.
Mention how this can still be part of me.

Finish the wine and smile.
The story then ends in soft light.
When out in the street with our
Whispers and dreams and our scene.
When out in the street with our
Narrative thinkings. Our ways home.

But eyes are made for stars.
And yours, your eyes.
They look too far.
Please mention how this can still be.
But eyes are made for stars,
And now the sky is adding light.
Track Name: Again
A heavy mist hangs upon his tired head,
As he glances up toward buildings breaking sky.
What passes by are silvers of others histories.
And business long been done.
Their path, their storm and sea.

So he tries to wrap his head around the core.

Letting go. Letting push and pull lose boundaries.
Lose form.
Like the bird that glides upon the strongest gale.
Or a house built on memory instead of time.

So he tries to let go of years of the same.
And he tries to think of a moving stream.

Would it hurt to meet their eyes or hear their words?

But he has walked away 'cause he has not been changed.
And he will hold the same 'cause he won't ask for names.
But he longs to look long and he can hear the song.
And he longs to impel himself again.
Track Name: Washout
Tread through wet grass.
A gentle breeze
Writes the scene
Of a weathered try.

Not the first one.
A missing piece after all
Is put in place.

A swear of damned words.
This temporal time, this lowly light
And this
Goddamn fear of
Washout cannot rise.

Walk through stretched black.
Her great embrace,
Lights, stars shine full.

When this rock's pushed,
carved and ground,
Shape turn back again.

A swear of damned words.
This temporal time, this lowly light
And this
Goddamn fear of
Washout cannot rise.

I swear now.
I swear loud.
I swear now.
Track Name: Rolling Hills
How could you touch the sky?
Ill-suited time and
Shaded eyes.

Grant the way to see
the free architect
paint a face.

Grasses made of hay.
The rolling hills
Wet from rain.

With these spoken words,
our hearts exhale.
We wake again.

Times to come have
pushed us forward.
I know I can’t.
You could.
You could.

An open chorded verse,
a figure of
moves and yearns.

Realize we’re not
writing our own scenes.
Just trying to.

Times to come have
pushed us forward.
I know I can’t.
You could.
You could.